Nature

Nothing stirs, nothing moves
in the still damp air
green leaves turning
to silent shades of brown
hanging lifeless from
lonely reaching branches
tears dripping down on soft earth
sparkle, then drown
in dark pools of sombre sky
smoke from a distant fire
drifts through the hushed wood
invisible and invasive
as a memory
I stand alone beneath the grieving trees
joined in sadness.

Your life is so short
just a few summer months
and in that time
you have thirsted beneath the burning sun
and bowed your head to the beating rain
For all your life you have been
slowly dying
decaying and fading
but in the torn lace
and fraying linen layers
of your now fragile petals
I still see your beauty.

No birds or angels fly
across the wounded sky
storm clouds holding onto years
of unshed tears
clothe the sky in swirling grey
the edges fray
tearing a hole in the dark membrane
a spreading stain
of sunlight pools upon the ground
hope is found
struggling up on tattered wings
it sweetly sings

Hidden in the hedgerow
untouched by sun or rain
all the little teardrops
tiny pearls of pain
like the dying of a butterfly
soft petals quietly fall
they lay upon the rain soaked ground
so still and small